


The Effects of Gravity on Failing Objects

by Watermelon Wolves (lookididthething)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison is not a vampire, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Derek is a Failwolf, F/M, M/M, Scallison, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookididthething/pseuds/Watermelon%20Wolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Scott are conned into spending their last summer before collage working at Dr. Deaton's Beacon ills Animal Clinic. All would be well if it wasn't obvious Scott's new girlfriend was a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Effects of Gravity on Failing Objects

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Suica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suica/gifts).



As far as veterinary clinics went, Dr. Deaton's Beacon ills Animal Clinic wasn't actually as bad as it sounded.

Replacing the 'H' on the sign would have helped, but the building itself was okay. It was in good repair and a fresh coat of paint was helping it stand out from the gloom of the trees. But it was so far out into the woods that--paint or no paint--Stiles wasn't convinced it could possibly have enough customers to stay afloat.

Dragging Scott's bag out of the jeep, Stiles eyed the building and the surrounding landscape a second time. Nothing resembling a normal town had materialized out of the trees. Everything was exactly the same.

The many, many times Stiles had planned just how the summer after his and Scott's senior year could be the Best Summer Ever™, he’d generally envisioned it a little bit differently. He didn't necessarily mind the part-time-job thing. But getting outsourced to horror movie country? Isolated, population 400 and half-a-horse, horror movie country? That was harder to swallow.

His dad totally knew he was not any less likely to get into trouble here. They both knew that.

Which added to the sneaking suspicion that this whole “character building life lesson” thing was just an excuse for his dad and Scott's mom to spend their summer worry free, drinking rum and eating artery-clogging foods.

“Bet we could find a body if we wandered around the woods long enough,” he mused, considering the tree line with a thoughtful nod.

“Like… A hiker?” Scott asked, getting Stiles to roll his eyes just hard enough to catch a glimpse of what looked like a figure standing behind one of the bigger trees. Stiles pulled their bags out of the jeep and walked a little faster than usual towards the safety of the door.

\--

The bell over the door rang as Scott pushed it open. The inside of the clinic was neat and clean. The walls were covered with retro posters like: “Spay and Neuter Your Pet Today!”; “Keep Your Cats Inside; Protect Voles?” and “Mountain Lions: They Are Everywhere.”

Deaton poked his head out, and they both got a warm welcome and a tour of the downstairs clinic and upstairs apartment they'd be staying in. When they got back downstairs, the clinic was open, and Deaton's handy-man was glaring at a lopsided door hinge like that would maybe fix it.

“Derek. Perfect timing. This is Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski. They’re here to help out over the summer,” Deaton said, waving his hand in aid to the introduction. Derek’s glare shifted to Stiles and Scott. The hammer he was holding was suddenly a lot more threatening when his attention wasn’t on an inanimate object. “Say ‘hello,’ Derek,” Deaton prompted.

Derek made a growly sound with the same number of syllables as ‘hello’ and went back to work.

“Don’t mind him, “ Deaton said, shaking his head. “Derek’s bark is much worse than his bite.”

Stiles kept it to himself that he wasn't worried about Derek barking or biting until right that second.

\--

It was quickly proven true that Deaton definitely had a very successful Etsy shop or something to supplement his income, because very little business happened at the clinic. A couple checkups, one surgery, and a lot of busy work seemed to be the weekly norm. But of course, there were also your unpredictable, off-hours emergencies.

\--

It was 30 minutes past closing time when there was a sudden, rapid pounding on the door of the clinic. Stiles looked up at Derek from where he was reading comics at the front desk, his face a picture of confusion because, really, who knocked on an office door before even checking to see if it was unlocked?

No one had bothered to flip the sign as it was Derek’s job to do so on his way out, and he was still packing up for the night. Stiles slowly stood, but Scott appeared from the back and beat him to the door, opening it to reveal a panicked girl holding a black lab in her arms.

“I hit him,” she said, huge eyes fixed on Scott. She held up the dog up a little more, presenting it’s jacket-wrapped front paw. ”With my mom’s car. Are you still open?“

Stiles was marveling at the strangeness of this girl asking that question, but Scott didn’t seem phased. “Yeah. Come on in. The vet’s still in the back,” he said, taking the dog as the girl hurled herself through the door.

She was still thanking Scott profusely as they rushed the very calm dog into the back room.

Stiles stayed put. Everything else was pushed from his mind as he watched Allison pass by Deaton’s framed degree without casting a reflection.

He looked at Derek, eyes wide and intense, and Derek looked back, confused, long after Stiles had leapt to his feet and run after the other two teens.

\--

The dog was fine. The paw wasn’t broken, and after a quick checkup and awkward phone call to its owners, Deaton said Allison could drive it home. But rather then leave right away, Scott and Allison ended up sitting in the waiting room until she’d calmed down.

Scott kicked Stiles out half an hour before Allison went home, insisting that him lurking around and making weird comments wasn’t helping Allison feel any better. Meaning the first time they really got to talk about it was the next morning at 9AM.

Unfortunately for Derek, he got to work at 8:55.

\--

“I think she's my soul mate, dude.”

“Yeah. Clearly, Scott. It's perfectly reasonable that the girl you just met and have exchanged a total of exactly two hundred and eighty words with is your soul mate,” Stiles retorted. “I counted, Scott. I counted. Also, did you see the size of her canine teeth? They were like fangs. She looks like she wants to suck your blood. ”

“Yeah, I know,“ Scott swooned, chin perched on his hand and eyes staring off, unfocused, at the middle distance.

“Dude. I'm serious. Are you listening? Did you notice she didn’t cast a reflection? A whole room of stainless steel and not one reflection! Super pale, nervous around blood, waited until you invited her inside. I think she just might be a vampire.”

“I asked her out while I was helping her with the paperwork.”

“Who does that?!” Stiles yelled, making a strangled noise that signaled to Derek (eavesdropping is rude, you know) that both of them were being completely serious. “Are you listening? Scott? Scott!”

Scott was not listening.

\--

It wasn't that Stiles didn't want Scott to date. He was happy, in some way, that his friend had found someone he obviously liked... but Allison was obviously a vampire. It was painfully obvious to Stiles, and he wasn’t about to have his friend get attacked by a blood-thirsty monster on his watch.

Not that that made him paranoid. He honestly had no idea why people kept saying he was.

Even if he bore a bit of a resemblance to the Bailey School kids when he was younger. (Starring in Zombies Don't Play Soccer, Vampires Don't Wear Polka Dots, and other books his father banned from the house two weeks after their discovery because damn it, Stiles, accusing the mailman of cannibalism is not okay. No, not even when he has Kuru symptoms à la body tremors, pathologic bursts of laughter, increasingly poor coordination, difficulty swallowing and moodiness.)

And it was not like he thought everyone was a supernatural creature of the night.

Sure, he thought handy-man Derek was a werewolf for all of five minutes. Because seriously? Who else is that buff? And two days into the job, a dane had lunged at Stiles, and Derek had gotten between them and fucking growled at it, which had sent the suddenly terrified dog scrambling in the other direction. Derek had been really bashful about it, word vomiting out an explanation and retreating to the backroom.

Stiles had wondered.

Briefly.

Only then Derek had gotten taken down by a very hostile and surprisingly aerodynamic cat, which Stiles discovered later weighed in at 7lbs, and he scrapped the idea. The guy had literally ended up on the floor.

All bleeding and hot.

…

So in conclusion: Derek Hale was not a werewolf!

But Derek's potential lycanthropy had been part of the reason Stiles had taken enough interest to discover that Deaton had a large collection of books on the supernatural filling out his bookshelves. Allison's obvious vampirism spurred him on to borrow a few that looked like they had promising insight into the problem.

\--

Derek, for his part, did not understand Stiles. Stiles had spent the first week of knowing him asking him about the metal content of his silver rings and casting nervous glances at the lunar calendar whenever Derek looked grumpy. (Which even Derek accepted was probably close to his sisters' estimate of “all the fucking time”.)But he didn’t not like Stiles, in spite (or because) of the boy's oddities. And he just wished he would stop fucking up in front of Stiles. It was getting more than a little ridiculous. What had at first been a nice throw off on the whole ‘werewolf thing’ was reaching its limit.

It really wasn't good for Derek’s ego that every time they were in the same room together, he tripped over his own tongue or got maimed by an animal no dignified werewolf should be maimed by. But Stiles kept talking to him, worming his way into Derek's day with questions that were either completely random, way too personal, or supernatural-related.

\--

“Dude,“ Stiles said, slamming his hands down on the table between them. Derek turned his head half an inch to one side, still struggling to fix the door on a gang of hamsters’ cage, and contemplated his career choices while they aggressively squeaked and occasionally lunged at his fingers. “Allison.”

Derek groaned. Scott had inadvertently stopped listening to Stiles, and Derek was since then a captive audience. Derek was better than captive. He was willing. Sure he always had the same slightly murderous expression on his face but he never actually murdered Stiles. Totally willing.

“I’m serious! “ Stiles protested. ”Dude. Scott is going out with Allison tonight. He’s going to get his throat ripped out.”

“Allison is not a vampire,” Derek retorted.

“She’s a vampire. Have you ever seen a girl that size carrying a full-grown lab around in her arms?” Stiles asked, indicating the size of it with his arms.

“She was panicking. People are strong when they’re panicked. And it wasn’t that big a dog--”

“She waited until she was invited before coming inside--”

“You’re not listening, are you?”

“--And she didn’t have a reflection!”

Derek took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers and counting to ten. “Stiles. I don't think--”

“I'm going to follow them tonight to get some real proof. And make sure Scott’s okay.”

Derek groaned, feeling his stomach drop out as Stiles turned on his heel and left. Scott would at least be with a local, but Stiles would be alone... Some quick math told Derek that Stiles and Beacon Hills weren't going to add up well. And if there was another... animal attack and something happened to Stiles, Deaton would kill him. Ergo this was now another unwritten addition to his job description.

\--

“Stalking” is a strong word. A strong word with negative connotations that Derek didn't feel really represented his intentions.

But there weren't a lot of other verbs that described the process of following someone from place to place, jumping in and out of the bushes, and generally lurking somewhere solely because your “stalkee” was there. Like the local bowling alley’s parking lot.

At least, Derek reasoned, Stiles hadn't caught him yet. He was way too busy focusing all his attention on Allison and Scott.

Derek panicked and rolled under the jeep.

Stiles watched as Derek dropped to the ground and rolled under the jeep, more convinced than ever that Derek wasn't a werewolf... and also was just a little bit creepy.

In a hot way.

\--

For a moment, as Derek was laying on his back under Stiles' jeep, things could have gotten worse. And for a second Derek was thankful for that. Until a moment later when he realized it would (of course) get worse, and the moment after that when it (of course) did. Because that was the law of Derek's life, as consistent as the sunrise and strict as gravity.

“Dude... what are you doing?”

Stiles had the moral high ground here, as far as Derek could figure. Stalking your best friend since childhood because you're worried about their safety wins out against stalking someone you've only known for a few weeks for similar but more convoluted reasons. Time to lie.

“...It seemed dangerous to leave you out here alone.”

“And your plan was to protect me… by hiding under my car?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow in just the right way to make Derek want to tunnel deep into the earth. “I’m waiting for an answer, dude.”

Derek reminded silent.

“I guess I am now more safe from anything that might be hiding under my jeep. Or. Or a lot less safe…”

“I was focused on the big picture.”

Stiles pretended to consider, letting Derek stew for a few more seconds before breaking the silence. “Want to come along? Like, officially? You can be my sidekick. I’m going to get curly fries. I’m starving. ”

\--

The next thing Derek was really aware of was how the jeep bounced when Stiles tumbled into his seat. Stiles dropped a bag of fast food into his lap, holding his soda up to Derek's mouth and offering him a drink through a mouthful of fries.

The whole thing felt quasi-legal to Derek. (Hanging out with the guy you were just stalking, who’d in turn been stalking his best friend... )Not to mention the fact it was a lot more awkward to stalk someone who wasn't your best friend. Derek was extremely familiar with that concept.

But he ~~enjoyed Stiles' company~~ worried for his safety, juuust enough to go along with it.

\--

“Demanded half and half pizza, because of ‘garlic allergy,’” Stiles mumbled, propping his notebook against his knee as he scribbled down the words. “Shows signs of sensitivity to bright lights...”  
Derek watched Allison through the pizza shop window, marveling at just how many vampire cliches could fit into one night. Through the pizza shop window Allison and Scott went through the motions of their date, miming their conversation as far as Derek and Stiles were concerned. Allison picked up the chilli flakes, shaking it over her pizza and yelping with laughter when it spilled all over.

Knowing by smell that Allison was not a vampire, Derek had to wonder if she wasn’t maybe doing this on purpose. He wouldn’t have put it past an Argent.

“Counting things like the Count…”

On the other hand, Stiles wasn’t exactly making his theory credible.

\--

The problem was that Stiles thought his case was extremely strong. Strong enough that when Scott and Allison decided a long, romantic frolic in the woods was the best possible end to their date, there was no talking Stiles out of following them.

Derek had tried.

He was convinced that it was either going to end in watching Scott and Allison make-out or with someones’ death. The best possible outcome was that it would be his.

The woods always smelled like damp pine and gore to Derek, but it was too potent tonight to let him lower his guard. Something was lurking… And if Allison hadn’t noticed Derek and Stiles lurking she wasn’t paying enough attention to notice it. It was Derek’s job (apparently) to keep a vigilant watch.

\--

While Derek was keeping a vigilant watch on a cluster of trees behind them, Stiles was watching Scott and Allison. It was hard to see in the dark, but Stiles was pretty sure he had a good read on where they were. Totally reasonable that one minute he’d see Allison duck behind some trees and the next he’d see a wolf step out from behind some trees further back.

“She turned into a wolf!” he hissed, standing up from where he’d been crouching.

Derek’s head snapped around. He looked at Stiles, looked at Scott, looked at Allison, looked at the blue eyes glowing between the trees and lunged forward. He ripped off his jacket, shifting right next to Stiles and taking a run start past Scott and Allison as he leapt onto the other wolf. 

He hit it, sinking his teeth into its shoulder. The omega howled, scrambling and trying to twist out of Derek’s jaws. Derek stayed on him until the omega finally managed to dart away and retreat into the woods.

Derek stood for a minute, blood dribbling down his jaws around a hunk of fur and flesh. Slowly he turned, meeting three pairs of huge eyes. Allison, Scott and Stiles all stood with their mouths open, which prompted Derek almost involuntarily to open his jaws and drop the squirrel-sized mouthful.

Then Stiles started running towards him, and before Derek could do more than tense and rock his weight back to run, he was kneeling in front of him.

“That was so cool, dude!” he said, pulling his sleeve down and rubbing it over Derek’s muzzle with complete disregard for the proximity to his teeth. “You okay? That was so cool. Why didn’t you tell me you were a werewolf? We could have totally-“ he broke off, turning towards Scott. “I told you! Didn’t I tell you? Totally called it.”

If a wolf could look confused, Derek was the most confused-looking wolf of all time.

\--

With coordinated effort, Stiles, Scott and Allison found all of Derek’s clothes and together they trudged back to the clinic. Stiles turned the hose on Derek, getting most of the gore out of his fur. And then Allison distracted Stiles just long enough that Derek could shift and pull on pants before the barrage of questions could start. 

Annoying questions aside, Derek almost wrote the night off as ending well. Stiles didn’t seem bothered by him being a werewolf and had given up on Allison being a vampire. It almost looked like he wouldn’t be spending another night stalking people around the town-- until Stiles mentioned 'Jackson Whittemore’ and ‘kanima’ in the same sentence. 

Next verse same as the first. Derek had a feeling it was going to be a long summer.

\--


End file.
